Chapter VIII: The Beggars Brigade

I now come to a special element of both hope and difficulty in the solution of our Indian Social problem,--The Beggars. Here we have the lowest stratum of the submerged tenth, excluding from them the religious mendicants with whom we are not now concerned. I have classified them as follows:--

1. The blind and infirm.

2. Those who help them and share the proceeds of their begging.

3. Able-bodied out of works.

Now I propose to deal with them in a way which will not call for Legislation. In the first place it is most improbable that Government would interfere with beggary, even if asked to do so. Certainly no such interference would be possible without assuming the responsibility of the entire pauper population, involving an expenditure of many million pounds. In the second place any such interference would in all likelihood be extremely distasteful to the native public. In the third place I believe the question can be better dealt with in another way.

I propose to cut diamond with diamond, to set a thief to catch a thief, to make a beggar mend a beggar. In other words my plan is to _reform_ the system rather than _abolish_ it. To the radical reformer who would sweep out the whole "nuisance" at one stroke, this may be a disappointment. But I believe that this feeling will be diminished, if not entirely removed, when he has made himself familiar with the following scheme.

Of course if the Upas tree could be uprooted and banished from our midst,--if with a wave of his magic wand some sorcerer could make it disappear, so much the better. But this is impossible. We should require an axe of gold to cut down the tree; and this we do not possess. If a rich and powerful Government shrinks from the expense of such an undertaking, we may well be excused for doing the same.

But after all supposing that you can transform your Upas tree into a fruit-bearing one, will not this be even better than to cut it down? Such things are done every day before our very eyes in nature. The stock of the crab-apple can be made to bear quinces, and a mango tree that is scarcely worth the ground it occupies, can be made to yield fruit which will fetch four annas a piece!

What is done in the garden is possible in human nature. And God will yet enable us to graft into this wretched and apparently worthless Upas stock, a bud which in coming years shall be loaded with fruit that shall be the marvel of the world. This human desert shall yet blossom as the rose, this wilderness shall become a fruitful garden, and the waste places be inhabited.

Surely then, better even than the _annihilation_ of beggary will be its _reformation_, should this be possible. At least the suggestion is well worthy of consideration, and in examining, the matter, there will be several important advantages to which I shall afterwards refer.

(1.) The first step that we would take in reforming the-beggars would be to _regiment them._ The task would be undertaken by our Labor Bureau. In this I do not think there would be serious difficulty encountered, if the scheme commended itself to the native public. They would only have to stop their supplies and send the beggars to us.

(2.) Our next step would be to _sort out_ the beggars. They would be divided into three classes:--

(a) _The physically unfit_, who could be furnished with light work
at our labor yards, or otherwise cared for. At present there are
hundreds of beggars who are physically unfit for the exertion that
begging involves, and who are driven to it by the desperate pangs
of hunger.

(b) _Those who like_ it, and are physically well fitted for it,
besides being accustomed to the life, and not being fitted much for
anything else.

(c) Those who dislike the life, and would prefer, or are suited for
other occupations. Some of these we would draft off to other
departments of our labour yards, while some would for the present
be kept on as beggars, with the hope of early promotion to other
employment.

(3.) We should _brigade the beggars_ under the name of the Household Salvage Brigade, or some similar title, dividing them into small companies and appointing over them Sergeants from among themselves, and providing each with a badge or number.

(4.) We should with the advice and consent of the leading members of the native community, _map out the city into wards_, and assign each company their respective streets, allotting as far as possible the Mahommedan beggars to the Mahommedan quarters, and the Hindoos to the Hindoo. In this we should also take the advice of experienced beggars, from whom we should expect to learn many useful hints.

(5,) Each house that was willing to receive them would _be supplied with three receptacles_, one for waste cooked food, another for gifts of uncooked food, and a third for old clothes, waste paper, shoes, tins, bottles, and other similar articles.

(6.) At an appointed hour the Brigade would proceed to their posts, would patrol their wards, and bring or send the various articles collected to the labor yards, where all would be sorted and dealt with as necessary the cooked food being distributed among those who were willing to eat it, or sent to the surburban farm for our buffaloes. The raw grain would be handed over to our food depôts, and credited by them to the Beggars Fund for the special benefit of the destitute.

(7.) At the end of each day every member of the Brigade would receive a food ticket in payment of his services. The amount could be regulated hereafter. This ticket he would present at our food depôt, where he would be supplied with whatever articles he might require. There would be a regular system of rewards and encouragements for good conduct. But all such details will be settled hereafter.

(8.) A special feature in the system would be the introduction of the ancient _Buddhist_ custom of "_meetihal_," or "the consecrated handful of rice." This is as follows. A pot is kept in each home and a handful of grain is put into it every time the family meal is cooked. We think that there would be no difficulty in getting this custom universally adopted, when it was understood that the proceeds would be devoted entirely to feeding the destitute. I believe that the income derived from this alone would in course of time be sufficient to meet the needs of the destitute in any city in India, at the same time that it would serve to equalise and therefore minimise the burden which now rests chiefly on a comparative few.

(9.) In case the food supply thus obtained should be insufficient, we have little doubt that we could persuade leading merchants in the city to club together and make up the difference, when they saw the good work that was going on.

Such in brief is a skeleton of the scheme for elevating and renovating the Beggar population of India. It is no doubt open to criticism on some points, but it has special advantages which I will proceed to point out, apologising for the extra space I am obliged to occupy, in dealing with this subject, on account of its novelty and importance, and in order that I may be thoroughly understood.

1. _It is conservative._ Here you have a reformation without a revolution, or rather a revolution by means of a reformation. And yet there is no attempted upheaval of society.

2. It is thoroughly _Indian_, and suited to the national taste.

3. It _costs nothing_ and may even prove in time a source of income to the Social Scheme.

4. It is _doubly economical_ since it uses the human waste in collecting what would be the natural wastage of the city, and devotes each to the service of the other.

5. It is _systematic_ and therefore bound to be as immensely superior to the present haphazard mode, as a regular Army is to an undisciplined mob.

6. It unites the advantages of _moral suasion_, with those of the most perfect _religious equality_ and _toleration._

7. _It saves the State an enormous expenditure_ and avoids the necessity for harsh, repressive, unpopular legislation, and increased taxation.

8. _It benefits the public._

(a) It removes a public nuisance.

(b) And yet it satisfies the public conscience.

(c) It stimulates private charity, and directs its generosity into
wise and beneficial channels.

9. _It benefits the beggars._

(a) It protects the weak from the painful and often unsuccessful
struggle for existence.

(b) It ensures everybody their daily food and a sufficiency of it.

(c) It restores their self respect.

(d) It teaches them habits of honesty, industry and thrift.

(e) It opens up to them a pathway of promotion.

10. Finally it will furnish honest and honorable employment right away for hundreds of thousands all over the land, and create an entirely _novel_ industry out of what is at present an absolute _wreckage._

But I am well aware that certain objections are likely to be raised. These I would seek to remove, though if we are to wait for a plan which is free from all liability to criticism, we may wait for ever, and wait in vain. There is a famous answer given by John Wesley to a lady who was objecting to something about his work,--"Madam, if there were a perfect organization in the world, it would cease to be so the day that you and I entered into it." Hence it is not simply a question as to whether there are difficulties in the present proposals, but can anything better be suggested. However, I am anxious to meet in the fairest possible manner all conceivable objections, and am perfectly prepared to make any such modifications as may appear advisable.

(1.) Some will perhaps say that the beggars are already too well off to desire to come,--that they are making a good thing of it and will prefer to prosecute their calling under the present arrangements. Of course if it be true that they are able to do better for themselves than we are proposing to do for them, then they have no right to be included in the submerged tenth. I would congratulate them on their success and turn my attention to those who are more in need of our services. But could any one seriously defend such a supposition? And if they are likely to be bettered by the new arrangements, why should we suppose that they should be so blind to their own interests as to refuse to profit by the new chance? Besides, this is contradicted by all experience. Let there be a prospect of a feast, or a supply of rice or food, and who does not know that beggars will flock eagerly to the point, though it be only for a single meal, and we propose to provide a _permanent livelihood._

(2.) But says some one else _they are bone-idle and will not work_, and you propose to give them no food save in exchange for their work. This is a real and serious difficulty. We fully recognise it. Yet we do not think it is un-get-over-able, for the following reasons:--

(a) We do not intend to be hard-taskmasters. The work given will be
of a light character, and suited to the strength of each. We are
not going in for oakum picking and stone breaking. We shall do our
utmost to make everything bright, cheerful and easy. We have no
idea of treating them as criminals.

(b) It ought not to be difficult to get each one to do two annas
worth of work, and this will be more than sufficient to cover their
expenses. We have no desire to become _sweaters._

(c) _Begging is hard work._ If you don't believe it, come and try
it! I and many of my officers have begged our food as religious
mendicants, so that we, are able to speak from _experience_!
It is at best a life of sacrifice, hardship and suffering. And yet
we have practised it under _specially favorable circumstances_,
particularly those of us who are Europeans. But that there can be
any sort of rest, or ease, or enjoyment in it to those who are
driven to it by the pangs of hunger, unsupported by any spiritual
consolations, I cannot conceive. On the contrary I should say that
the task of the beggar is so hard, and disagreeable not to say
_shameful_, that the majority of them would leap to do the
most menial tasks that would deliver them from a bondage so
painful.

Have you ever solicited help and been refused? Have you known what
it is to feel the awful sickenings of heart at hope deferred? Have
you known what it is to be regarded with suspicion, with contempt,
with dislike, with scorn, or even with _pity_ by your fellow men?
If so, you may be able to realise the experiences that every beggar
has to go through a hundred times a day, many of them with feelings
every bit as sensitive as your own. Will he demean himself and work
hard at so miserable a calling and yet be unwilling to do some
light work, with which he can earn an honest living? I for one
cannot believe it, till I see it.

(d) Our experience further contradicts it in dealing with the more
depraved, hardened and supposed-to-be-idle criminals and
prostitutes, whom we receive into our Prison Gate and Rescue Homes.
When Sir E. Noel Walker was visiting our Prisoners' Home in
Colombo he was astonished at the _alacrity_ with which the men
obeyed orders, and the _eagerness_ with which they worked at their
allotted tasks. He asked the Officer in Charge whether he ever
_"hammered"_ them, and was surprised at finding that the only
hammer he ever required was the _allsufficient_ hammer of _love._
And yet the gates were always open and they were free to walk out
whenever they liked. Moreover, beyond getting their food and a very
humble sort of shelter, their labour was entirely unpaid.

(e) Finally by means of a judicious system of rewards and promotions
we should educate and encourage them into working, besides teaching
them industries which would be useful after they had left us.

(3.) But some one else will say "They are thievish and will rob you. They are roguish and will decieve you. You don't know whom you have to deal with." Well, if we don't know them, we should think nobody does! I would answer,

(a) Granted that some of them cheat us. All will not. And why should
the honest suffer with the rogues?

(b) What if we do lose something in this way? It would be little in
comparison with the enormous gain. I feel sure it would in no case
exceed ten or twenty per cent, on the collections made, and that
would be a mere trifle.

(c) Our system of regimentation would largely guard against any such
danger and would be an encouragement to honesty.

(d) It is notorious that there is "honour among thieves." They would
watch over one another. Among them "_nimak-harami_" or
"faithlessness to their salt" would soon come to be regarded as a
crime of the first water.

(e) The inducement for thieving would be largely gone. Very few
steal _for the sake of stealing._ A man usually steals to fill his
own stomach, or some one else's, whom he loves. But here all would
be provided for.

(f) Besides he would feel that all he could earn was for the _common
good_ and was not going to make any individual rich at his expense.

(g) Our experience in the Prison Gate Homes contradicts it. True, we
have had some thefts especially at the beginning, but when I was
last visiting our Colombo Home, the Officers in charge assured me
that they were now of the rarest occurrence, while the gentleman
who owned the tempting cocoanuts that were hanging overhead told
me that he had never had such good crops from his trees, as since
our colony of thieves and criminals had been settled there!

(4.) Some one else may perhaps object that we shall have thrown upon our hands a swarm of helpless, useless, cripples and infirm. Well, and what if we do? Are they not our fellow human beings, and ought not some one to care for them? We shall look upon it as a precious responsibility, and I speak fearlessly on behalf of our devoted officers when I say, that they would rather spend and be spent for such than for the richest in the land. If, as I have already shown, the effort can be made _self-supporting_ and _self-propagating_, the mere fact of their misery or poverty only impels us to love them the more and to strive the more earnestly for their emancipation.